


Illuminate

by 50shadesofNico



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dating, M/M, Making Out, Songfic, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50shadesofNico/pseuds/50shadesofNico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazel is surprised to find out that Nico has a talent for singing. She pushes him to pursue making songs even though he doesn't want to.  Eventually a deal is made to where Nico becomes an anonymous singer on the radio. Hazel hopes this could help Nico feel better, as Will could be more sensitive to him in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> \-- The instigation for this fic started as some drawings I did while listening to Mathew Koma songs! I thought his voice was perfect for Nico, and so for this story I will lamely be using his songs for what Nico sings and makes.
> 
> \-- Please note that this fic may not be completely Solangelo-positive, as it is going to explore some of the more negative aspects of their relationship.
> 
> \-- If you're reading for the Percico, please know that it will not appear in the story until later--and it may also not be the happiest of occasions too.
> 
> \-- There will be mentions (maybe even slight) of Percibeth, but I'm not tagging it with that since it is not prominent in the story.
> 
> \-- I am not affiliated with anyone or anything. I don’t own anyone or anything, or take credit for any of these characters/lyrics. I also am cutting the lyrics down and not including them in their entirety.
> 
> \-- Mention of death cw (Bianca) 
> 
> \-- There's not much graphic/explicit content as of yet, but there will be in future chapters. I am choosing to give it the mature rating because I do intend to write smut/sex scenes within it, and I don't want people thinking this is a safe-for-work-any-age-appropriate-fic just because there isn't any nsfw content at the start (tags of content will be updated when said content appears in fic). 

“Thought I’d find you here …” Hazel stood next to Nico, her eyes focused on the same thing that he was looking at—that he had been looking at. For days now. “You always disappear around this time, but you’ve never been gone this long. We’ve been worried, Nico. It’s been five days since–”

“I know–” Nico quickly cut Hazel’s words off. He did not want to hear the rest of it.

A heavy, pensive sigh passed from Hazel as she looked away from the name on the gravestone and straight to Nico. It was like this around the date of Bianca’s death every year. Nico would go to her grave and the amount of time he spent there could last anywhere from a day to a week.

He looked dirty and malnourished. Hazel hated it when he got like that. Her eyes trailed back to the tombstone. One candle was burning in the midst of seven melted ones that were surrounded in their personal bed of flowers, most of them dead. “Nico, please come back. What else can you do?”

The corner of Nico’s lip gave a twitch as his eyes fought moister. Hazel regretted the words, knowing the two particular ones that made her brother want to cry: come back. He had long accepted her death, but was he over it?

“I thought maybe this year …” Nico tried to keep his voice from cracking, “I mean … you know, souls that choose to be reborn … sometimes they wander back in their new body to places of things of their past life, even their graves. The person will be drawn to a certain grave and they won’t know why, but …”

“Nico … come on, please?” Hazel gently placed her hand on his shoulder, “Will’s waiting for you.”

“Is he?” Nico’s voice was hollow as he tilted his head down.

Hazel could tell he was no longer staring at Bianca’s name but rather his feet, which was a good thing in a twisted sense.

“He said no. I asked him to come with me to see her with me, and he said he couldn’t. Maybe if he had come, Bianca … whoever she is now … would have come here and I could introduce them, even if she’s just a little kid, but …”

“You can’t blame it on Will.”

Nico’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he roughly closed his eyes in order to keep his emotions as steady as he could manage. “Just … Just a little longer … then I’ll return to camp.”

Hazel shifted on her feet uncomfortably. ‘A little longer’ could mean a month from now.

“It’s going to get colder …, and don’t you think Bianca would want you to get something to eat? When was the last time you slept? I’m sure she would want you in a nice warm bed …”

“You’re right but … I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to. I’m never able to sleep around … this time,” a smile made out of desolation shaped over Nico’s face, “You know she used to give me cookies in bed and sing me a lullaby when I couldn’t sleep … Maybe If she came here, she could–”

“Why don’t you do it, Nico?” Hazel did her best to offer him her smile, hoping it would turn his pained smile into a true one.

“Huh …”

“Sing yourself to sleep and sing Bianca’s song to her at the same time. Don’t you think that would be a nice parting gift for this year?”

“I guess …”

Nico kept his head down, but Hazel could detect his glossy eyes reading over every curve of her name that was carved into the stone with every syllable that came out of his mouth.

She didn’t recognize the song or the melody of it. She wondered if it was something she had yet to hear in here in this era, or if it was something that Bianca made up herself.

“ …. Somewhere you keep up your halo,  
Scared of what they don’t know.  
Open up your window shades and illuminate …”

Even more than the words or the tune, Hazel didn’t recognize her brother’s voice. He carried his song in a way that was immensely beautiful and unblemished. Underneath the delicate fluctuation, she could pick his voice out. But if she had not been standing next to him, she wouldn’t have known it was Nico who was singing. He sounded alluring with a mixture of something that was both sharp and soft at the same time with each lyric he laid down for Bianca.

She had been staring too much, and Hazel only realized with the wide-eyed look that Nico gave her for two seconds before he turned his head around to every side as he was looking for someone―his older sister.

Hazel felt a heaviness as she knew her shocked, stiff expression made Nico assume that she had been stunned by seeing Bianca’s reincarnation. “N-Nico–”

”Did you see her?” Nico kept glancing around.

Hazel rapidly, gingerly placed her hands on the sides of Nico’s face to pull him towards her. “No Nico, I’m sorry.”

The ache was instantly back blanketing over him, and no longer could he keep the corner of his eyes dry.

”I’m sorry …” Hazel repeated. “It was just that … Nico, that was—you are really good.”

“What …?”

“Singing, I mean.”

“Oh.”

“Oh–?” Hazel sounded a bit insulted. “What do you mean 'oh’? I want to hear how you even sound when you’re not—I mean, I’d like to hear how you sound when you’ve gotten your rest. You owe it to Bianca now. Don’t pull back on what you said you would do.”

“I know. I know …” Nico took hold of Hazel’s wrists to remover he hands from his face, but he didn’t let go of her as they left Bianca to sleep with the tune of the lullaby.


	2. II

“Eat some more, Nico.” Hazel sat in front of her brother's bed in the Hades's cabin. Some day she hoped this pattern would be broken where she would have to deliver her brother food for a few days after he would return from Bianca's grave.

First it was getting Nico back to camp that was a task, then it was getting him out of the cabin that was another challenge on its own. It was exhausting, but Hazel love Nico enough that she'd do anything for him.

“It tastes bad.” Nico frowned at the muffin, one bite taken from it.

“Maybe your mouth is just dry. Have some tea.” Hazel gestured to the tray near the bed.

Nico sighed as he picked up the mug, a grimace over his face as he stared down at it as if there were poison in it. “Teabag . . .”

“So?”

“Lose leaf tea is better.”

“C'mon Nico, just drink some. Stop making excuses. You need something in your system.”

“Fine—jeez.” He took a careful sip.

Hazel watched a bit too intently. Her eyes glimmered as she surveyed Nico consuming the tea.

Nico's posture stiffened as he was quick to notice how she was watching him. “What is it—”

“Huh?” Hazel blushed as she didn't notice herself how she was staring. “Oh. Nothing. It's just that . . .”

“Yeah . . .?” Nico lifted an eyebrow. His mind ran a mile per minute. What was it _this_ time? What happened while he was gone? What did he do now that she was going to scold him about?

“Well I was wondering . . . that song yesterday.”

“Oh . . .” The sadness retook his face as he turned his eyes away from his sister.

“Nico, I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean for— it's just that I'm curious how you sound when you have had something to drink.”

“I haven't yet though.”

“Um . . . you just had a long sip of tea, silly.”

“This is tea, _poor excuse for tea,_ but you said after I've had something to drink . . . so get me a bottle of amaretto.”

Hazel hit Nico's shoulder playfully with sourness, “That's not what I meant!”

“Right.” Nico took another sip of the tea.

“Come on, Nico. I never knew you could sing! Did . . . did Bianca come up with that song?” Hazel bit at the corner of her lip, hesitant to ask but her interest was gnawing at her.

“Sort of . . . maybe.” Nico stared down, “Some of it . . . it wasn't long enough to put me to sleep, so she then told me to come up with some more lines. We wrote it together. Though looking back of things . . . I mean _looking back on things_ , most of it translated from Italian to English. We just didn't know it then. Our mother--”

“I see . . .” Hazel pet down the side of Nico's face. “Maybe you should sing more often.”

“No-”

Hazel wondered if she ever heard Nico say a word faster than that in her life. “. . . But--”

“No.”

“Ni--”

“I don't sing!”

“You do too!” Hazel stood up, hands clenched at her sides.

Nico shot a glare up at her, “The king of ghosts does **not** sing! It's stupid!”

“It is not! You have a talent and--”

“And so what! I told dad the same thing two years ago!”

“You should—wait, what?”

“Er--”

“Hades?” Hazels canted her head, a hand going on her hip, “He caught you in the oh-so-horrible act of signing too?”

“I don't know . . .”

“Then what do you mean you _told_ him the same thing?”

“Gr--” Nico cocked his head away.

“Don't you look away from me! I'm asking you a question!”

“It's no big deal—forget it.”

Hazel grunted and moved around to Nico's from so that he'd be forced to look at her, “If it's no big deal, then just tell me!”

“Gods—Fine--” Some muttering was done in Italian as Nico pulled himself out of bed and went over to the closet. He knelt and dug through it for a moment, being careful not to take anything out he didn't want Hazel to see, like Mythomagic cards and other things he pretended he didn't have. “It was a birthday gift one year . . .” Nico sighed as he pulled out a dusty acoustic guitar case. Hazel's eyes lit up all over again.

There were a couple clicks as Nico opened it to frown down at the instrument. “It was random as . . . well . . . hell.”

“Nico . . . I think, I think . . .” Hazel stepped over to him, sitting on her knees as she inspected the guitar, “that children of Hades and Pluto tend to have some sort of artistic talent . . .”

“No, that would be Apollo.”

“You know there's been some real bad people in the world who were offspring of Hades, they had artistic talent or some sort of appreciation for theater arts. I think dad gives us these things because he hopes that if we focus on our art, then that can keep us from . . . you know. Too bad it seems it didn't work too well in the past.”

“Well I'm just the king of ghosts, not the living. I don't need this.” Nico went to close the case lid, but Hazel stopped him, “Did you ever even _try?_ ”

“Maybe.”

“You did?” She was shocked to hear that.

“I played around with it a little when he gave it to me . . . but then I pretty much forgot about it.”

“Can you play something for me? Please?? Play and sing something small . . . I'd like to hear more of that song you and Bianca had.”

“Just a little—and once—then you have to leave me alone and never bring it up again.”

“Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Because . . . singing is something done in kids musicals or fakes on the radio. It's not like I'm any good at it and--”

“Stop right there! Don't start saying you're not any good when you are!” Hazel huffed and took the guitar out of its case, shoving it in Nico's lap. “Go on.”

Another tight leer was given to Hazel; one that was surely going to be the longest lasting one of the day—maybe the week. Nico wondered if this had been anyone else sitting in front of him, if he would have given into them or not . . .

A single note strung from the guitar as Nico flicked his thumb down the string. “Ah~” He closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. _“There.”_

“Come on! You're going to make me mad, Nico!”

“Fine, fine . . .” Another strum of the guitar, and it was followed by cords of honeyed melody, “Used it all for takes,  
     but your heart matters,  
     and desire on your fate.  
     With your fear where'd you after.  
     Somewhere you keep up your halo,  
     scared of what they don't know.  
     Open up your window shades  
     and Illuminate.  
     Let nothing in your way.  
     Go on and shine on.  
     Is your sanity poor?  
     'Cause you're starving for a reason.  
     Make your sickness your cure.  
     You invent what you believe in.  
     Let nothing in your way.  
     Go on and shine on .”

By the time that Nico had gotten to the last couple of lines to the song, his voice had grown shaky and captured tears burned behind closed eyes.

Hazel placed a hand on his knee, “Thank you, Nico.” She sat up straight and gently adjusted some of his bangs behind his ear.

Slowly Nico opened his eyes, not allowing himself to be a casualty of crying. “So, are we done now? Or are you going to sit there and tell me how beautiful that was and I should pursue a life of singing.”

“Pursue a life of singing.” Hazel grinned.

“I—what--? We had a deal. One song, and you wouldn't pester me any more about it! Children of Hades stick to their word.”

“It was your idea!”

“I was being sarcastic!”

“You always knew your sass was going to get you in trouble some day.”

“Uh-huh . . . well . . . glad we could have this _songversation._ Now--”

Hazel stopped Nico from putting his guitar away. She was no longer smiling, but her a slight bit of pain was over her face. Even just a little was enough to make Nico's shoulders drop.

“I just think . . .,” Hazel started, “that it would be a shame to hide your voice from the world. It's so lovely, and . . . it's not just that, but I know you're not feeling your best as of late.”

“. . . I'm managing. I have Will and--”

“And I'm seeing you frown more than I'd like to.”

“Is that anything new?”

“Nico, I just think that if you took up writing songs and singing them, that it could help you out. Like . . . your own therapy to put out your thoughts somehow because--” Hazel bit her lip, hesitation clear.

Nico narrowed his eyes, already knowing what she was about to comment on.

“I've noticed that Will doesn't always seem to listen to you when you try talking to him. I mean _actually_ talking to him. It's not that I don't support . . . you know . . . I just.”

“We're done talking.” Nico roughly dropped his guitar in the case.

“This is exactly what I mean!”

“What--” He tightened his glare at her.

“You're picking up those habits from him!! You wouldn't have just brushed me off like that before and--”

“If you have a problem with me being . . .”

“It's not that! I just think you need some **actual** counseling. Will isn't helping you, nor are you helping yourself!”

“Will is helping me just fine! Don't talk like you know everything of our relationship!”

Hazel's eyes started to become moist. Seeing the frown that usually brought on tears made Nico feel as if he should call up a zombie to kill him and make him a walking dead this instant. He never wanted to make Hazel cry right now. Even though she wouldn't, the feeling of knowing should _could_ cry was just as bad as if she were.

“I'm . . . sorry, Hazel.”

She took a heavy breath in and placed a hand on her hip. He eyebrows switched between sadness and anger with each blink she took to kill the sobs from forming. “Make a deal with me.”

“Er—what?”

“Write a song and sing it for the public. No one's gotta' know it's you, okay? We have Dead on Arrival. Just put out one song anonymously, and if people hate it, you get to stop and I never say another word about you, your guitar, or your boyfriend. But if it makes tops chart, then you have to continue until you make enough songs to fill an album with and--”

“Hazel, please. I said I'm sor--”

“I'm not done! If you get number one on the charts or a platinum album, then I'll get Hades to give you that birthday gift you've asked for every year. Don't think I don't have my ways, Nico di Angelo.”

Nico's eyes went almost as wide as his face. “The . . . my own pirate ship?”

“You're own pirate ship.” Hazel said confidently, “Your own ship, AND a crew of pirates of your picking that I'll make not-look like zombies to where you won't even be able to tell.”

Nico's gaze bounced back and forth between his sister and his guitar for a minute. This was a hard deal to say no to. When it came down to it, he could live with Hazel saying whatever she wanted to him, about whatever she wanted, about whoever she wanted, but if she could get Hades to give him pirates and an old fashioned pirate ship, then he'd _really_ have a place to call his home. Not only that, but even if Nico had wanted to say no to Hazel, he wasn't so sure he could knowing that he had just been so rude to her. “And . . . no one knows it's me, right?”

“That's right. Promise on Styx I won't tell a soul, living or dead.”

“Think I'm going to go to HotTopic . . . need to get some stickers for my guitar.”


	3. III

_'Bianca'_

Before any sticker was placed on the guitar, the name was elegantly painted on it to stand out amongst anything else. It was written in cursive, in silver, with a crescent moon right above the name. Only after that was there, would anything else be allowed to join with it.

Nico had decorated his guitar in things he liked, or things that meant something to him. It started with just one sticker of the Italian flag, but he hoped if he put enough stuff on the instrument, he wouldn't be tempted to put it down as much as his practices often made him.

The next most stand-out sticker on it was a pirate skull and crossbones. It was his reminder as to why he was doing this—but he knew he was kidding himself. It was that name written on there as to the real reason why he was finally heading into Dead On Arrival’s studio: Bianca; and Hazel too.

It had been a little less than a week since Nico had agreed to Hazel's wish to put out a song, and the more he thought about it, the more he really felt like he'd be dead upon arrival at the recording studio. While creating more lyrics, notes, and a decent beat to go with the words, Nico had gotten more than frustrated. So many times he wanted to quit and go back on the deal, but the name in the corner of his guitar kept him going. Hazel had said he only had to put out _one_ song, and he'd put out the song Bianca would sing him, for her. In memory of her. The original tune of the lullaby had been slow to induce sleep, but he thought about how Bianca wouldn't want something so sad-sounding when the meaning of the song was supposed to be inspiring and uplifting. It just made Nico cringe at himself all the more. Since when did he enjoy, and make, dance-type music? _'Fakes on the radio'._ That's what he had said. That's what he had told Hazel singers were, and now he was becoming one of them.

“I don't need you to hold my hand.” Nico huffed at Hazel as they walked into Dead On Arrival.

Hazel glared, “I'm not holding your hand. I just want to come with you. I'm excited for you! And once again, _Nico di Angelo,_ you need an attitude adjustment. Have you seen Will this week?”

“No--”

 _“Great . . .”_ Hazel sighed in dread.

“What do you mean, _'great'?_ ”

“He hasn't seen you in over a week now. You know he's not going to like that. When you finally do see him again . . .”

“It's no big deal. I'll just spend extra time with him than usual, that's all.” Nico gave a shrug and then opened the recording studio door.

“Can I come too? I want to see!”

“You can hear it on the radio.”

“Please?”

“N--” Nico bit his tongue as Hazel word's replayed in his head so soon about his attitude, “fine . . . but don't look at me, or else I won't be able to make it through the song.”

“Alright.” She beamed.

*******

The knocking came again. Each day it was louder than the last. Nico groaned as he pulled the blanket over his head as he laid in his bed in the Hades's cabin. Each morning since he had gotten back from Bianca's grave, _bright and early,_ Will had been knocking on his door and calling his name.

“Nico! Come on!! I miss you!” Will was nearly whining, and yet there was still a sort of authority in his tone that never seemed to have left it, “I'm going to knock so hard it will eventually make this door fall down, you know! Why aren't you talking to me!? What did I do--!? Nico!”

Hazel had been right. The longer he went without seeing Will, the more . . . complicated it got. “I can't take this . . .” Nico mumbled and then cursed in Italian as he got up. It was clear Will was _not_ going to let him sleep in until he tended to his boyfriend.

“Hey--” Nico exhaled the word as he opened the door, almost causing for Will to lose his balance as he was mid knock.

“Nico!” Will grimaced as he eyed him from head to toe, “You're being a lousy boyfriend, you know.”

“Sorry . . .” Nico rubbed the back of his head and stared down.

“ _Sorry?_ You owe me **so** many dates now.”

“I've just been . . . busy.”

“You know saying 'hi' takes a second, right? You know giving a kiss on the cheek takes two seconds, right?” Will smirked as he leaned in and pecked Nico on the cheek just to prove a point.

Instantly Nico stood up straight, his eyes glancing past Will and outside to make sure no one saw that. “I asked you not to do that where people could see!” He grabbed hold of Will's wrist and pulled him inside the cabin, closing the door behind him.

“Oh come on. Practically everyone knows we're dating, and I think I deserve more than just your cheek after you ignoring me for so long.” Will cupped the sides of Nico's face and touched his lips to his.

Nico's body stiffened and he wanted to pull back, but the touch of Will's lips was always so soft and silky, it drew him inward instead.

Will dislodged his wrist from Nico's grasp so that he could wrap his arms around him, tugging him even closer against his body and therefore pressing his lips tighter to his.

A small moan exchanged from Nico's mouth into Will's as he closed his eyes and returned the embrace. Soon he was no longer on his feet as Will had brought themselves on the bed, all the while never releasing his lips from his. Nico could feel Will grin against him before he decided to trail his tongue at the corner of his mouth.  
  
The temperature on Nico's cheeks raised higher the more that Will's hands traveled around him; and as those fingers reached his thigh, Nico couldn't help but to coil against him with a nip to his lip.

A small chuckle emitted from Will as he tugged at the hem of Nico's shirt, “Lucky I am that you are still in your pajamas, huh.” He tilted his head and placed moist kisses down Nico's neck. Nico only responded with another noise.

Slightly Will pulled back, but it was only to pull up Nico's shirt, messing up his hair more than it already was.

“Will . . .” Nico opened his eyes half way from a quiver when Will traced the sharp curves of Nico's collarbones with his tongue. “Mn . . .”

The sheets ruffled. Will placed himself completely over Nico, sitting on top of him as he undid his own pants and then went right to grinding his hips against the other boy's without delay.

A heavy single breath was let go of from Nico as his fingers clenched the blanket in trying to keep himself from becoming too turned on. “N-No, Will . . .”

Another smirk was given from the blond and he only gritted himself firmer to Nico, brushing his groin along his. “You're hard . . .”

Nico shook his head, trying to deny it.

“Come on . . .” Will traced the shell of Nico's ear with his tongue, one hand drawing up around Nico's chest to where he toyed with his nipple.

Nico let out something deeper than a moan. The noise seemed to have encouraged Will as he shifted himself so that he could start to pull down Nico's pants.

The cool air against his hipbones felt like a slap to Nico. He squirmed from under the other male and pushed his hand away, “I said no!”

“Ni . . .co . . .” Will sat up straight and stared down at him, a bit of concern taken over his face, but irritation reclaimed it, “Come on! Why not!? You owe me! You've been ignoring me . . .”

“L-Look . . . I'm sorry, okay? I just . . .” Nico drew his eyes away from Will again as he pulled himself back so that he wasn't fully under him now, “not yet . . .”

Will's brows forward, “It's been _'not yet'_ for a year now. Actually, a year in two months. That's how long we've been dating.” Slowly Will's gaze traveled south to between Nico's legs, “And every time . . . it's clear you like it, so I don't get why--”

“I'm just not ready, okay--?”

“F-fine . . . sorry . . .” Will moved himself all the way off of him, “But can I at least get some dates? I want to go places with you—the movies, the park. Lets go eat somewhere nice tonight.”

“That's fine . . . I'm . . .” Nico stroked the tips of his fingers along Will's jaw, “I'm sorry for being difficult . . . I know I am . . . and I know I should have seen you sooner, but—”

“But I know how you get.”

“Um . . . yeah.”

“It's okay.” Will kissed the top of Nico's head, “I love you.”

“. . . Thank you. I mean, I'm lucky to have you.”

Will tried to keep himself from frowning as he got up from the bed. He stared at Nico for a moment that felt way too long, waiting to hear the words back that have still yet to meet his ears in that sweet Italian voice.

But it never came.

“Well . . .” Will redid his pants and cleared his throat, “Meet me at my cabin at five this evening. You better not be a second late, _Death Boy._ ”

 


	4. IV

“Looks like I just found a little lost kitten.” Percy's teased Nico from behind.

“Excuse me!?” Nico whipped around, the tightest of leers targeted at the Sea Child.

“Whoa. What Minotaur rammed you and left its horn up your ahhh—la--” _Foot? Meet mouth._ It hit Percy too late: the thought that he shouldn't be finishing such a sort of jest in front, _for,_ Nico di Angelo, “Lah fhaaa lerrr--” a string of incoherent noises threw up from Percy's throat as he tried to make a save, but it was too late.

“FUCK OFF!” Nico clenched his fists.

Percy took a step back, distress shaping his face. Hazel had told him that Nico hadn't been acting like himself lately. She said he was lashing out a lot more, but Percy didn't expect to hear the f-bomb from his lips so loud like that (at least in English). “L-look, Nico, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like _that._ I wasn't even thinking about—er--you know.”

Anger continued to swirl around Nico's amber hues.

“Uh hum . . . I shouldn't have said anything to begin with. I'm not against—er--”

“Percy-- just stop! Stop talking!!” Nico went move away, but as he brushed past Percy, a hand touched upon his shoulder, stopping him. _Percy's hand._ “Er--” Nico glanced up at him. Percy's brows were knitted as his eyes rang of concern.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even made the kitten comment. You just looked . . . so zoned out. What are you doing just standing here in the middle of camp like that?”

“. . .” There was a feeling that was forming in Nico's throat that he was familiar with when he looked at Percy for too long, and that was an aching lump as if his heart was clawing its way up within him, trying to get out of his mouth so it could force him to speak words he buried deep under it.

“Well . . . you don't have to tell me, but . . . Hey, it's been a while since we've hung out. Actually I can't remember the last time we actually hung out-out without talking about how to fight something. Weren't you like, 12? I just got the new Grand Theft Auto game. Was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight and play it with me!” Percy worked up a large smile.

“-- . . .” Slowly Nico's stared down to the side, it probably appearing as if he were still glaring, but it was just unwanted anguish within his eyes that could fool.

“Uh and . . .” the smile over Percy drew nervous, “and I'll even buy us some Chinese or something to make up for the stupid things I said, 'kay?” He gradually removed his hand from Nico.

So many thoughts were fighting for first place within Nico's head—all about Percy Jackson. Those sorts of racing thoughts hadn't happened in so long, and he wished it would remain that way. Percy was right though, when _was_ the last time they hung out? Had they ever outside of camp? A small cringe passed through Nico at that thought. He wasn't sure if he'd actually be able to, no matter how much he wanted to—no matter how much he'd deny that he wanted to. Or, maybe he would admit to it, but he knew it wouldn't be healthy or good for him. And unlike Will, he could say no to Percy.

The blue birthday cake then won over all thoughts. That was it—that was the last time he hung out with Percy outside of camp and actually did something _normal._ Even then the end of the world was still trying to happen.

Percy had apparently been saying his name a few times before Nico heard it. He had also apparently hadn't been staring at the ground anymore, but into Percy's eyes. Too many memories played over as he looked into that mesmerizing green color. _Painful memories._ “Sorry . . .” Nico murmured. He wondered if he had been lost in thoughts like these when Percy had found this 'lost kitten'.

“Ah . . . no, it's fine. But did you want t--”

“Nico--?” Will approached the two.

At once Nico straightened out his posture and rapidly turned his sight away from Percy and on to his boyfriend.

“What are you doing?” Will went to take Nico by the wrist, but Nico quickly moved his arm out of the way. This clearly upset Will by the expression the crossed over him. “Nico—it's 5:06. I said--”

“I know--” Nico snapped more irritable than he would have liked himself to sound, “I was just heading over to your cabin.”

Percy gave a half-smile, “You two going out?”

“Yes.” Will answered.

“We're hanging out.” Nico said at the same time as Will said yes.

“Oh, well then I'll be off,” Percy replied, “I should probably go see how Annabeth is doing with her fundraiser.”

“Bye, Percy.” Will gave a half wave.

Percy gave an awkward wave back, though his eyes fell back on Nico who rapidly looked away at the notice of them. “Yeah, see you later.”

“Nico . . .” Will started.

A heavy sigh drew from Nico as he turned his sight back up. _'Here it comes . . . the scolding . . .'_

As Will said something, Nico found himself looking past him, to Percy heading across grounds. For some reason, he really felt like playing video games now . . .. Nico thought about how even if he didn't have a date with Will though, that this result of him standing here without him would be the same. It would be too uncomfortable to be alone with Percy at his place, knowing that Percy _knew._ Even if Nico had done his best to make it clear he was over him, that it wasn't such a big crush or deal at all, just the idea that it had been _a thing_ still made him not feel the best around Percy.

Then there was his heart pushing through his throat again as Percy was no longer in sight. _'Why does it still hurt?'_ Nico wished he didn't have to wonder that. If only things were in reverse between them. All this drama and pain could be when they first met each other, and then as years passed, things could have gotten simpler. Nico would become happier instead of sadder. It would start out with Percy with Annabeth together, and then as time went by, the two of them would be just friends. She'd even be _away_ from them, and Nico could be smiling as he'd still idolize Percy in a good sense; fall in love with him more, and then become confident enough to ask him out _instead_ of saying _'I used to have a crush on you.'_

Nico's stomach gave a twist as he thought about it all. Would that really make his life better? If he was standing here in front of Percy instead of Will? And it wasn't like he wished for Annabeth to be actually gone, or any ill-intent on her. It was just that when he had first laid his eyes on the Sea Prince Annabeth had gotten . . . _'thrown off a cliff'_ as Nico put it (and it made him cringe at himself to think about how he said that).

“Hey, are you listening to me--!?” Will lightly shook Nico on the shoulder—the opposite shoulder that Percy had taken.

“Huh—oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Right, then what did I just say?”

“Um . . .,” Nico looked guilty as he rubbed the back of his head.

“As I thought . . . Gods Nico, what am I going to do with you sometimes--”

A large frown took over Nico's face. “I'm sorry—I'm just tired. You got me up early and I couldn't go back to sleep!”

“Sure, blame it on me." 

“I--”

“Why were you talking to Percy anyway?”

“What--?” It was Will's turn to get a glare. He had no right to not keep him from speaking to someone!

“I mean, ** _I_ ** had to come literally knocking on your cabin door, multiple times, in order to see you! Did you go see Percy yourself? It's just because _you know,_ I'm your boyfriend--!”

“No! He approached me!”

“So you're being anti-social all around then?”

A breath skipped from Nico's lungs. How was he supposed to respond to that? This felt like a losing argument no matter what he'd answer Will. “Lets just go already--”

It was a lumbering silence between the two of them as they left Camp Half-Blood. Nico followed Will, contemplating when and if he should ask where they were going. It felt like he couldn't speak, both mentally and physically. He hated when Will got like this with him: mad at him. Nico wasn't even sure what he did to cause it this time. He couldn't stand it. Would he be able to last like this the rest of the night? A hefty inhale was taken as Nico tried to gather up his courage.

It was terrible. He had been through Tartarus and back, and yet he was afraid to take Will's hand out in public. Would that be the only way Will wouldn't be mad at him anymore? Forcing himself, Nico wrapped his fingers around Will's.

Will almost tripped over his own feet as he had not been expecting that; and it was probably because Nico had been holding his hand that he hadn't fallen flat. “Ni--”

“Will . . .” Nico's voice was still meek with the guilt, “I'm wondering . . .” he squeezed his hand tighter, “Do you think we can get some fresh things . . . at the grocery store, and then bring them back to your place to make something together for dinner?”

“Um well . . .” Will cleared his throat, still feeling off balance that his boyfriend was actually holding his hand where people could dare see, “actually I wanted to take you somewhere nice. It's a cute restaurant-cafe in The Village.”

“Oh . . .” Nico stared down at his feet as they walked. _How exciting._ 'A cute restaurant-cafe in The Village' meant _every_ single place to eat in The Village, as they were all the same. They were stuck up, pretentious with hipsters, and over-priced food with little dog water-bowls set outside for people's Pomeranians to sip from as they sat sipping their white wine. With how Nico believed he had screwed up with Will though, he wouldn't reject to what he wanted right now.

 

*******

 

A pair of Pomeranian’s growled at them, growled _at him,_ as they stopped at one of The Village's cafes. Nico watched as Will was now smiling again, gesturing a table for two.

“Would you like to sit inside or out?” The host inquired.

“Outside, please.” Will beamed.

Nico let go of his hand and tugged on the edge of his shirt, “Actually, could we sit inside? I don't--”

“Come on, Nico. It's a nice evening out.”

Another sigh.

Idly Nico stared at the fringe of the patio umbrella of the table they sat at. _Yellow._

“Get whatever you want, okay? I'm buying.” Will leaned in, his smile widening.

Nico felt himself blush some. He didn't understand why he made Will so happy sometimes, and it was that damn smiling face that gave him the undead-butterflies in his stomach that he wanted to capture in a net and rip their skeleton wings off. “Th-Thank you . . .” Nico picked up the menu and started to flip through it. As he paid attention to the butterflies in his stomach—or more like the poisonous mosquitoes-- he realized he wasn't hungry at all. That wasn't a good sign, because during the time in his life when he lacked an apatite, he wasn't in any sort of good state.

 _'Ugh, everything is so expensive.'_ A wince. Nico always felt weird after thinking that about something due to his father sort of being the god of wealth and all. Maybe it wasn't the price that didn't make anything appealing (though that surely was part of it), but just that his stomach surely did not want anything. Tightly Nico pursed his lips as he flipped the pages, looking for something small.  


  _'Used it all for takes,_

_but your heart maybe matters,_

_and desire on your fate.'_

 

 _Oh gods . . . those words . . . that voice . . .--!_ Nico almost chocked on his own breath as that song came on the radio. _His song._ Why—why did it have to be that the first time he was hearing it had to be **now!?** While out on a date with Will!? Actually, he could go without hearing it at all.

Nico had sunk down in his seat and was hiding his burning face behind the menu, shoulders arched upwards.

“Hey. Hey? What's wrong?” Will gave several blinks as he tilted his head, trying to see past the menu that Nico was holding up.

“Uh--” Nico could feel the corner of his lip giving a twitch out of nerves.

“Hmm?” Will turned his head, glancing around as he was expecting to see someone they knew with the way Nico was strangely acting.

Carefully Nico started to peer up from the menu. First he stared at Will and then his eyes bounced around to the rest of the people at the cafe. He felt like everyone knew this was him on the radio, even though he was aware it was his paranoia. But Will? Would he be able to tell? How he hoped not.

“What's up?” Will nudged his foot to his.

It took way too much effort for Nico to regain his composure. He forced himself to sit up straight though, elegantly setting the menu back flat on the table. “Nothing. It's nothing.”

“Your face is red. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah. Er—I mean, no. That's all it is. A little headache came on.”

“Oh, I see . . .. Well, you probably just need something good to eat. When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

“Hazel's been bringing me food . . .”

“Hm. Did you eat anything today?"

“. . . . . .”

“Thought so--” Will gave a condemning look.

The host made their way to the table, pouring them glasses of water, “Do you know what you'll be having?”

Both Will and Nico gave a nod.

Nico flipped to the appropriate page. “Please may I order the Pié d'Angloys appetizer wrap.”

“Anything else?” The host continued.

“No, thank you. That will be all for me.”

“What--?” Will frowned and knitted his brows, “You need more to eat than just an appetizer.”

Nico squirmed restlessly in his seat, not wanting to get into _this_ argument with Will in front of a waiter. “It's fine. I'll be fine with that.”

“He'll also have the paleta flank steak dish, please.” Will decided before ordering his own meal.

“Will--” Nico waited until the host had exited, “you know I don't like it when you do that.”

“You know I don't like it when you don't eat.”

“I was going to eat!”

“A small single wrap isn't enough!”

“How do you know!?”

“Because I'm a doctor!”

“Gr--” Nico hated when Will said the 'd-word'. It was like the secret weapon that was the end-all argument statement.

That lumbering silence had found its way back as they waited for the food. Then, once it arrived, Will spent more time watching Nico eat than eating himself—or making sure Nico would eat.

The pain in Nico's stomach started after the first bite of the appetizer. Those mosquitoes had bit. Hard.

“How is everything?” The host stopped by.

 _'Terrible,'_ Nico wanted to say.

“Fine.” Will gave a fake smile.

“Actually,” Nico spoke up, “I'll have a glass of Chenin Blanc . . . please.”

The host hesitated as he studied Nico, who had closed his eyes and rested his chin in his hand in an irked posture. There was definite wondering going on whether Nico was old enough to drink or not, but the waiter had decided not to ask for ID due to the fact that they were at _this_ cafe in _The Village;_ but what had made the final justification was the very slight tinge of the Italian accent in Nico's voice.

“Of course.” The host wrote down the order and turned.

“Nico, not again!” Will reprimanded.

Nico rolled his eyes as he opened them, grateful that Will didn't start while the host was still at the table. “You act like I'm an alcoholic.”

“You're too young to drink!”

“Please, if I was still in Italy, I'd be having wine with my meal long before now.”

“Well . . . that's true . . . but . . .”

“You said I could get anything I wanted.”

“But I didn't mean--”

But that big hunk of meat in front of Nico looked more appealing once he had a glass of wine in front of him, when it came. Even so, the wine went faster than the plate of food did.

Will surveyed the nearly empty glass. “You can slow down drinking that.”

“I know I can, but do I want to?” Nico smirked and then adjusted some hair behind his ear, “I'm sorry Will. I don't mean to upset you.” Nico traced the shape of the glass. One glass wouldn't get him drunk, but it helped in calming his nerves a lot. It made him talk better, which was what Will wanted, wasn't it? “It's very nice of you to take me here, thank you, and your actions can be just as nice as you look,” Nico blushed.

“You're . . . welcome.” Will's own cheeks flushed a bit as well.

“I know I can be a challenge a lot . . . well . . .,” Nico looked down at the barely eaten stake, “ I just really can't finish this meal. Maybe I could get it packed up? I'll eat it later for you.”

“I supposed that would be okay, but only if you come somewhere else with me.”

Nico had to quickly yell at himself in his head not to frown. “Oh? Where?”

“Ever been to Coney Island?”

Nico couldn't help but to lift his eyebrow and scrunch his nose a bit. Will was seriously intending to take him from The Village to Coney Island? “I've been everywhere for one reason or another.” Nico mumbled.

“Uh . . . well I figured we can watch the sunset over the skyline.”

“You would like that?” The other eyebrow lifted. How could that be romantic? It was cliché, but would demigods involved in the Battle of Manhattan really look forward to watch _that_ skyline?

“Well . . . if it's with you, yeah.”

“Oh . . . I see,” the red color increased on Nico's face.

“I know this city may be hard for us, with memories and such, but new memories can be made. Good ones.”

“I guess . . .”

“Come on now, okay?” Will gave a final smile within the cafe.

 

*******

 

The fried food particularly stunk tonight, but Nico tried to ignore the scents of Coney Island as he sat next to Will on a bench. _Sat next to:_ which wasn't good enough to for Will, apparently. Did he think he was going to get kidnapped to the Coney Disco Palace?

Will was trying to tug Nico closer to him. He didn't seem to want to sit _next_ to him, but _on_ him or something akin to it. The blond was trying to make sure there wasn't any space between them. “Stop being shy.” Will poked Nico's nose.

“I'm not—I'm not being shy.” Nico muttered.

“Then sit on my lap.”

“Wh-at!?"

“You held my hand before though!"

“That was just--”

“Just?”

Upon looking at Will, Nico noticed he looked a bit crushed.

Will moved himself closer instead of continuing to attempt to lug Nico near him, “What's wrong with you? I love you. Why do you barely want to touch me?”

“I—it's not that--!”

“Then what is it?”

“I'm . . . I don't feel well.”

“What's wrong? You know it's my job to heal. Did that wine make you sick?”

“No, I don't mean that kind of not-feeling well . . . I'm not . . . happy.”

“What? Why not? I thought I made you happy . . .”

“You do . . .”

“So you are happy.”

“No . . . I mean, I guess I feel depressed.”

“You're fine though.”

“. . .”

“I get some depressing things have happened to you, but they are in the past. These will be the years that matter.”

“I guess . . . but--”

“No. No 'buts'.” Will swiftly pushed his lips to Nico's.

The sun went down and so did anything else Nico had to say.

 


End file.
